Slow Dying Flower
by Alice Faren
Summary: I gathered her broken form in my arms, holding onto her tightly as if she would be gone if I were to let go. She buried her face in my neck and began sobbing. It was then that I noticed she was soaked with water, and that if I had not found her, she would be screaming in pain and trying to electrocute herself until there was nothing left. "We're both so broken," I whispered to her.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This is completely AU. In this fic, Claire and Elle are the same age. Some of this content is from real-life experiences. Just a little of it, though. I might mark where the real-life stuff comes in. But then again, I might not ;)

Title: Slow Dying Flower

Summary: After a car accident, Elle Bishop's mother and twin sister are dead. Living with her father in an apartment in Costa Verde, California, Elle must adapt to her new life. Diagnosed as a sociopath, she should not be as affected over her mother and sister's deaths as she is. She attends school with Claire Bennet, and after learning about Claire's abilities, an inevitable chain of events follows. The two soon find themselves on the run. And in the end, Elle is just happy to find someone as messed up as she is.

Rating: T for now

Pairing: Well, it is just friendship, but if it comes in high demand from you guys, then I might have Elle and Claire end up together. I know that some people really like that pairing (and I am fine with it)

Point of View: It will be Elle's Point of View unless stated otherwise

"Elle, try not to do anything that will get you in trouble. Also, um, I want you to try out for cheerleading…" my father told me carefully.

"I'd rather not, but I will if it makes you happy," I replied with one of my sweetest tones before hanging up the phone. I pulled into a vacant parking spot and took the key out of the ignition with an irritated sigh. After grabbing my bag from the passenger seat and placing the strap over my shoulder, I locked the doors and began my walk towards the front doors of the school.

A few boys whistled at me, though all I did in reply was roll my eyes at them. I didn't care enough to do anymore; though afterward I realized that a nice shock would have been good—if it did not make my father disappointed, of course. With yet another sigh, I pushed through the front doors and made my way down the hallway and to the main office. The lady behind the desk greeted me with a smile, and it took most of what I had to force a smile back at her.

"I'm Elle Bishop. I'm new," I said to her.

"Oh, right, Elle. We'll have someone come to give you a tour of the school soon," the woman assured me. Just then, a girl with blonde hair and green eyes strolled into the office. She was wearing a cheerleading outfit with the word "Captain" written in cursive just below the shoulder. The woman grunted as if annoyed once she saw the cheerleader. "Can I help you, Miss Bennet?"

"Coach Parks sent me to ask if the new uniforms came in yet," the girl said, smiling sweetly at the woman.

"The answer is the same as it was thirty minutes ago, Claire," came the irritated reply. The girl—Claire—raised her hands in surrender.

"Coach is the one asking, not me," she replied defensively.

Just as Claire turned to walk out of the office, the woman called her. "Since you are already here, you can give Miss Bishop a tour of the school," she said to Claire.

"Thanks for the offer, but we're having a cheerleading meeting in the Gym," Claire told her.

"Miss Bennet, I have let you get away with some things that you should have gotten detention for. There is a chance that they might resurface and you could be suspended."

I smirked at the woman's threat. Claire just sighed and gestured for me to follow her. We walked down the hallway, down two flights of stairs, and stopped at the entrance of the Gym. Despite what she had told the woman, the Gym was completely empty. Claire strode over to the bleachers and sat at the bottom one before pulling out her phone from her pocket.

"So, this is the Gym. You can take eleven minutes staring at it," Claire said.

"Why eleven minutes?"

"Because classes start in twelve minutes. Not to make you feel bad, but I'm using you as an excuse to miss my first class. If anyone asks, we'll just tell them that we only had time to see the office and the Gym, and that I still need to show you the rest of the school. I hope you don't mind. Oh, I'm Claire by the way."

"It's fine. I'm always being used," I said quietly, thinking of my father. Claire looked up at me; an expression of sympathy crossed her face. "I'm Elle,"

I spent the eleven minutes sitting as far away from Claire as possible—well, I tried to. Apparently, it would have been rude for her to ignore me, so she had gotten up after about two minutes and sat back down next to me. We engaged in meaningless conversation that I had hoped I would avoid. I told her that my last school was horrible, which was a lie because the only schooling I had received was by my father and a few hired tutors who usually ended up quitting because I thought it was fun to electrocute them.

After the eleven agonizing minutes were over, we both walked out of the Gym and into a large sea of high school students. I lost Claire so many times that she eventually just grabbed my hand to make sure I did not stray behind again. When we stopped in front of a biology class—which was the classroom I had to go to for the last period of the day—I noticed that she still had a firm grip on my hand.

"Um, do you mind…?" I asked, glancing down at our hands. She tilted her head, not getting the hint. I wriggled my hand out of her grasp.

"Oh, sorry," she said, looking down at her hand as if she did not even know when or how it had found mine. I rolled my eyes at her before looking at my schedule, wondering where we would be going next. "The cafeteria," she informed me when she caught me staring at the sheet of paper.

The halls emptied when the late bell rang, leaving only the two of us—as well as some strange-looking kid who was making his way towards the bathroom—alone. Our footsteps echoed off of the walls and I could just barely hear the distant chatter from the classrooms we passed. Once we came to the cafeteria, I wondered how much longer our little "tour" was going to take. I had classes to go to, and I already missed about fifteen minutes of my first one. It was my first day, after all.

"Plan on going to class yet?" I asked when Claire led me down another flight of stairs. She looked at me, her mouth slightly agape. I was sure she looked that way by how venomously I had spoken to her at the moment.

"Sorry. Just relax. I've never really met anyone who _wanted_ to go to class," she replied, an apology laced in her voice.

"Well, I would rather sit in a boring classroom listening to a teacher drone on and on for an hour than socialize with you," I told her honestly. The girl proved boring and somewhat conceited when she was telling me about how she was the captain of the team because of how "great her skills were" and that their team was the best because she was leading it. She might have not known that she was talking highly of herself, but it didn't excuse it.

Of course, I was a bit conceited every once in a while, but I was allowed to be that way because I deserved. This girl was probably just another Barbie Doll who got away with everything because she was a cheerleader. I doubted she had ever felt pain before. As I thought more about it, sparks formed at my fingertips and I was more than happy to deliver the pain she never experienced. Just as she turned around, though, the sparks burned out at my will. I promised Daddy I was not going to get in trouble. And electrocuting a cheerleader was probably going to get me in trouble.

I remember what he had told me that morning, about how he wanted me to join the cheerleading team. With a feigned smile, I looked at Claire. "So," I started, "are there any spots open for the cheerleading team?"

"You're interested?" she asked as if it was not impossible.

"Uh, yeah. That's kind of why I just asked," I said.

"Well, one of the girls just moved away, so…if you're good, you can try out."

_I hope you're happy, Daddy. Did you forget that I _suck_ at things like cheerleading? _I thought to myself. My smile faltered, but I forced it to stay on my face for a little while longer. "Well, um, I'm a quick learner…" I told her.

"Do you have any experience whatsoever?"

"No," I admitted, looking at her with a hopeful expression. She sighed.

"If you can come over after school, I could teach you a few things. It's not really up to the other girls whether or not you join, but I can't have them get mad at me for allowing you on the team if you are terrible. Coach Parks is out, so the decision is only up to me."

"I thought that Coach Parks sent you earlier today to check the status on the uniforms," I stated.

"I just like the piss Mrs. Barkely off."

This was going to be a long year—I could already tell.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Well, I will admit: this chapter might seem very rushed. I apologize for the crappiness. The reason I made Elle a terrible driver in this is because in the show, I always imagined that she would a crappy driver with major road rage |D

My classes were not as terrible as I thought they would be. The biggest problem I had were the boys hitting on me and Calculus being a little too difficult. Other than that, everything was fine. At lunch, Claire had dragged me over to the table packed with cheerleaders, telling me that I was allowed to sit there for the day. One of the other cheerleaders had said that it was a privilege to get to sit at the table. If she had known that in History I was going to brush past her and zap her, she probably would not have made the mistake of speaking to me at all.

Claire had asked me for a ride to her house, explaining that her father had dropped her off that day because her car was getting fixed since some idiot sideswiped her when she was at the mall. If I had not been going to her house that afternoon, I would have told her that she could walk herself home. Of course, though, that would not have gone too well with her. I peeled out of the student parking lot and drove down the street, giving her fake apologies every time I nearly crashed—which happened about seven times in the ten minute drive to Claire's house.

By the way Claire basically jumped out of the car, I could tell that she was happy I was no longer threatening both of our lives on the road. She smiled weakly at me when she noticed her behavior, but a smile was not necessary. I brushed it off, pretending I had not noticed anything about her actions; not even the embarrassed smile and blush that crossed her face when she nearly spilled her Slush-o—which I had insisted we picked up since I love them so much—on her when I slammed on my brakes during our drive home.

She led me into her house, explaining that the lack of cars in the driveway was due to her parents being out and her brother at lacrosse practice. We made our way up the stairs and into her room. Carefully, I placed my backpack down in a corner and followed her over to her bed. She held a Calculus book in her hand which resembled mine, mostly because we were in the same class. After we both decided on doing homework first, I grabbed my backpack and tried hard to pay attention to the things that Claire was trying to teach me. I found almost everything confusing, and her explanations of them were not very helpful.

Being the new student, my teachers excused me on some of the homework, telling me that I was to catch up on Monday. I wished I had something to do other than play Sudoku on my phone while Claire did her massive pile of homework for an hour. The sound of a door opening and closing made Claire's head snap up from her notebook. She walked over to the door and pressed one ear against, listening to the people downstairs talk. I was able to figure out that a man and woman—most likely Claire's parents—were speaking to each other, but I could not make out anything they were saying.

Throughout the school day—in the classes I did have with Claire—I noticed that she was so alert to everyone around her, as well as suspicious of what some people said. Her facial expressions were usually adorable in the least, and by the time she stepped away from the door in her room, I decided that she would make a fun toy if I was allowed to have her. Unfortunately, Daddy would not have liked that idea very well, and so I had to refrain from sending a shock through her body. It still seemed like a fun idea to me, though.

Just as Claire had closed her notebook, a man wearing horn-rimmed glasses walked into her room. "Dad!" Claire shouted. "You could have knocked!" Her father looked at me and gave me a look of suspicion and knowingness, as if he knew everything about me.

"Um, sorry," he said after regaining his composure. "I just saw a car outside and I wanted to make sure you didn't have any boys in your room."

He was lying. I could tell that he was. There was something about him that was familiar, like I should have known exactly who he was and where I had seen him before. Dismissing the odd feeling, I turned my attention to my backpack, trying to block out the conversation between Claire and her father. I felt as if I was intruding in some way, though I clearly was not. Soon after, Claire's father left the room and she instructed me to go to the backyard so that we could start with the cheerleading "lessons."

We spent about an hour doing boring drills and teaching me how to do stupid moves that I sucked at. If Daddy had not told me to do this, I would be at home relaxing. On our break, Claire had taken me to the kitchen so that we could get something to eat and drink. I was not all too hungry, but I accepted a bowl of chips in which we shared, as well as a glass of water.

As Claire was putting the glass bowl in the sink to be washed, she tripped over one of her dog's chew toys and dropped the bowl. It shattered and a piece cut across Claire's bare foot. I watched in interest at the cut slowly vanished, and Claire looked up at me with wide eyes. Trying my best, I held back a smirk. This was interesting, very interesting. It was something that I knew I had to report back to Daddy.

"What just—"

"Elle, please don't say anything. Please don't tell anyone. This is weird for you, I know, but, um, uh…" her voice trailed off as she tried to think of something to say. I held my hand up.

"It's fine. My lips are sealed."

_That was a lie._

About two weeks had passed since the incident with Claire's foot getting cut, and I found myself parked outside of Claire's house…again. This time, though, it was Saturday, so I did not have to scare the shit out of Claire with my lack of driving skills. In the five days, though, so much had happened with me. Not just with school, but at home.

Mostly at home.

Well, I did not really think that I could call a facility where dangerous people are kept a "home," but it was close enough for me. I spent every day after school at Claire's house for two and a half hours, and then headed over to the Company. My father allowed me to break in the new prisoners with shocks that made them scream. There was one man who could also manipulate electricity. Unfortunately, when I had been "breaking him in," he was soaked and sitting in water. After he continuously pissed me off, he died in an electrocuting incident.

I wondered how it happened…

I told Daddy that he did it himself in order to not have to be locked up. There was a chance, however, that he could have been a Company agent. If only he had let me talk.

I killed more people than I liked to admit. The strange part was that I hardly felt any remorse over it. However, after my mother and sister died, it was as if I finally became aware of what I was doing. I worked as a murderer for an organization run by my own father. Ever since I was four, I was tested on, trained to be a Company Girl. Was it really what I wanted?

"Elle?" Claire's voice pulled me out of my thoughts when she answered the front door. I feigned a smile. "You do realize you're soaked, right? How long have you been standing out there?" I was not until she pointed it out that I realized it had started pouring while I spaced out and got lost in my thoughts. How long _was_ I out there? It only felt like a minute, but it could have been longer.

"Um, hi," I said dumbly. For whatever reason, I had not told my father about Claire's…specialness. My phone began ringing, and I answered it, only to be greeted by my father's voice. "I'm going to take this outside," I told Claire when I pulled the phone away from my mouth. She nodded and I closed the door, making sure that she could not hear.

"Elle, I need your help. We finally tracked down the location of an ex-agent. His name is Noah Bennet. He has someone that he need, her name is Claire. We gave her to Noah sixteen years ago and told him to watch her. She has the ability to heal herself, and we need her at the Company. Noah is dangerous, and we don't know what he'll teach Claire," Daddy told me.

"Sorry, but I'm hanging out with a friend right now. I'll work on the case tomorrow," I replied. Quickly, I closed my phone and swung the door open, making my way inside. I thought more about what had consumed my mind earlier, about all of the lives I had taken, all of the pain I caused other people. Some of them were innocent. But I was a sociopath; I was not supposed to care.

"We have been hanging out for two weeks now and all I know about you is your name," Claire called to me from the kitchen. I stood at the front door, drenched from the rain.

"I accidentally set my grandmother's house on fire when I was six. I spent my ninth birthday in a glass room with an IV of lithium in my arm. I was diagnosed as a sociopath by three different doctors. But they're just out to get me, 'cause I threatened to kill them. I'm seventeen years old and I've never gone on a date. Never been on a roller-coaster. Never been swimming. And now you know everything there is to know about me. I don't have the luxury of being more interesting than that," I told her. She walked briskly into the living, her eyes filled with sadness, sympathy, and an unwanted apology.

"Elle—"

"It's fine," I interrupted. "It's the only life I've known," I admitted.

"Listen, I don't know you as well as I know my other friends, but I know that you probably don't deserve a life like that," she said carefully. It was not hard to see that she was trying to say the right thing, even if she did not mean it.

"No, actually, I did deserve it," I replied with a smile. She took a step towards me and reached out to me, but I stepped away from her, cringing from the contact that almost happened. A small frown appeared on her face.

"Why would anyone deserve that? Wait, why was your ninth birthday like that?" she asked me. I looked down. "Don't answer that question if you don't want to." She reached her hand out again, and this time I did not cringe away. Instead, I allowed her hand to rest on my cheek, as awkward as it felt.

"Everyone has at least one secret that is shaded with black. All of my secrets have been shaded in, though. Every single one of them. There are things about me that you don't know. Things that could put you in potential harm. Things that I can hardly live with. The pain that I feel is too much for me to handle. I want to just give up. Every single day, I have to deal with the guilt and remorse of knowing that I—" I stopped myself before I got too far. Before I knew what was happening, Claire had engulfed me in a tight hug.

That was, until I felt a gun pressed against the back of my head. Claire shrieked and screamed, "Dad! What are you _doing_?"

"She's dangerous, Claire. Her name is Elle Bishop. Her father is trying to hunt you down right now. I'm sure she already told him exactly where you are," Glasses replied. In one fluid motion, I stepped behind Claire and brought my hand to her neck, grasping it ever so lightly. My grip was so loose that my hand was just barely ghosting over her throat.

"I won't do anything," I promised Claire as I whispered into her ear. Then I turned my attention to Glasses himself. "If you do so much as try to shoot me, I'll kill her."

"She's indestructible, Elle."

"Shooting volts of electricity in that spot in the back of her head is the same as shooting her with a bullet or stabbing her there," I told him in an amused voice. Despite telling her that I was not going to do anything, I started thinking about how much fun it would have been to keep Claire as a toy—maybe even a pet.

"What the hell is going on?" Claire shouted.

Before I could even do so much as take another breath, something smashed into the back of my head, and I fell into a welcoming darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

I groaned and opened my eyes slowly, trying hard to ignore the throbbing in my head. As I took in my surroundings, I noticed a concerned Claire in the corner of the room. My feet were in a bucket of water, my arms were chained down to a chair, and every time I struggled against my restraints, the water in the bucket sloshed around and sent me a reminder to be careful; I did not want to send a thousand volts of electricity coursing through my own body. Slowly, cautiously, Claire surveyed the area before taking a hesitant step towards me. After deciding that everything was clear, she made her way over to my side.

"My dad told me what happened," she told me coldly.

"Let me make one thing clear," I said, trying not to include the venom that I always had in my voice. "If I had actually told my father about you, then you would already be locked up in a cell and your father would be lying on this very floor with a bullet between his eyes."

She considered what I had said, and I hoped to God—had I believed in God—that she would believe me. In the end, she would have to believe me, right? I knew that she was smart enough to tell a truth from a lie, and what I was saying had been the truth. Before she could respond, I heard footsteps coming towards the room, and Claire backed away until she was leaning against the wall in her previous position.

Glasses smiled at me; a stupid smirk that I wanted to slap off of his face. He leaned down towards me and slowly said, "I want you to tell me why your father wants Claire." Instead of answering, I spat in his face. Disappointed, he wiped the spit off of his cheek with a handkerchief. "That was the wrong answer, Elle."

That was all he had said to me before I felt searing pain spread throughout my entire body. I screamed in agony as electricity coursed through me. Claire gasped audibly and shouted something to her father, but I was unable to hear what she said over my screaming. Soon, the pain subsided and I was left with a blurry vision as I tried to look at Noah.

"Are you going to cooperate now?" he asked me. All I could do was lower my head and stare at my lap, forcing myself not to look back up at him.

"Dad, this is wrong. You can't do this!" Claire shouted. "She's my _friend._ I _know_ her."

"You know nothing about her, Claire. She is a killer, a monster. She is not your friend," Noah replied.

"Of course you know that about me, Noah. I am a killer. After all, you are the one who helped to create me," I told him in a quiet voice. It was all that I could remember about him, though I knew that there was more to it. There were things I could not remember, even though I should have known them well.

"Dad…?"

Noah was silent now, not turning around to face Claire. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a gunshot ran out, and before I could process what was happening, Noah fell limp to the floor in front of me. Someone called out my name, and my father had rushed to my side. How he got into the house, I did not know. Another man with him grabbed Claire, and she thrashed around in his arms, crying out to father.

"You killed him! What the hell is wrong with you! Dad! Dad!" she shrieked. Her screams were too much for me to bear, and I closed my eyes as my father freed me from my restraints. He helped me up and I struggling to walk out of the house and to the car.

Once I had dried off, we were driving down a road that was unfamiliar to me. Claire was shouting from the trunk as I continued to drive. My father did not speak, and neither did the man, who was sitting in the backseat. When he had spoken before, it came out in an Indian accent. My father introduced him to me as Dr. Suresh, but I honestly could not have cared less.

"Elle! Elle! Why are you doing this? I know you don't want to!" Claire cried. I gnawed on my bottom lip as I contemplated whether or not I should answer her. If I had answered with what I wanted to, my father may have shot me right then and there in the defense that I was a traitor.

I decided against saying anything back and drove on, turning onto a main road that I knew well. Only ten minutes until we had arrived at the Company…

"Elle, what are you doing?" my father asked as I pulled over.

"Didn't you hear it? The car keeps making this noise. Some guy at school talk me a little something about cars; there is something wrong under the hood. Will you and Suresh help me fix it?" I asked, stepping out of the car. They followed me to the front of the car and I opened the hood.

"It looks fine to me," Suresh stated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Hey, Random Dice, I actually only updated because you reviewed the story~ So, yeah, this is all for you J**

~~Claire's Point of View~~

All I heard was shouting and a flash of blue light sailed pass the window of the trunk. I held my breath as a few gunshots let out; despite the fact that she had been the reason my father was dead, I hoped that Elle had not been shot. After a few minutes, everything was quiet and still. Then one of the car doors opened and shut and the car was moving again. I tried not to speak, not to move. Had Elle been the one in the car? Doubt filled me, though I let out the breath I was holding when I heard rapid cursing.

"I am so fucking grounded," Elle muttered.

"What the hell just happened?" I called to her.

"I just saved your ass. You can thank me now or later," she told me.

"Am I also supposed to thank you for untying me and letting me actually sit in a seat. You know, with your shitty driving skills, we could get into a car accident and I could be dead on spot because you are forcing me to stay tied up in the trunk in the most hazardous way," I replied.

"Yes, Claire, because you will most definitely die if we get into a car accident. Shut up and let me drive."

I stayed quiet, and I could not help but let a smile fix itself on my face. My father was wrong, and knowing that Elle had just risked her life to save me made me feel like even if she was a killer, she did not want to hurt me. There was a chance that we were friends, despite our limited time spent together. Soon enough, the car had stopped again, though I had absolutely no idea where we were.

Elle opened the trunk and untied me with an embarrassed smile; it was not hard to see that she did not want this to happen to me. It made me smile again and she raised an eyebrow at my expression. I simply shook my head, dismissing the conversation that we would have engaged in. I looked at the large building before us. It was a hotel.

"Why are we…?" I did not bother to ask the rest of the question.

"We needed a place to stay, idiot," she snapped at me. The sudden change of attitude made me jump, and she made no attempt to apologize when she saw me. "Let's go."

Together, we walked into the hotel, and Elle left me in the middle of the lobby as she talked to the man at the front desk. She handed him a credit card and the two shared a laugh before she was handed a room-key. Gesturing for me to follow, she walked towards the elevator and held it open for me as I struggled to catch up with her.

"I need new clothes," I stated, but the it was more to myself than to Elle. She looked at my clothes, her gaze lingering on my body longer than it should have—though I pretended not to notice.

"Yeah, you do. Not just because those are dirty, though. You just have no sense of style whatsoever," she responded.

"Gee, thanks," I muttered back.

I saw Elle's eyes widen a considerable amount when we stepped into the large hotel room. She immediately walked over to the bed and ran her hand over the comforter. "It's so soft," I heard her whisper. She looked over at me and then averted her gaze. "So, um, I think I am going to shower and then get to sleep. I'm exhausted," she told me.

I nodded at her and watched as she made her way to the bathroom and just the door. Groaning, I jumped onto one of the beds and buried my face into the pillows. A half hour later, Elle came out of the bathroom. The tips of her hair dripped with water and she watched each step she took. I knew it was because she did not want to look at me. I was still trying to figure out what her problem was, but the fact that she would not even look at me made my heart ache.

It was wrong, what I was feeling. Ever since I had met her at her school, I got this weird feeling in my stomach when I saw her. Whenever she flashed me one of her grins or smirks, my stomach would flop around and my heart would beat faster. As much I tried to ignore the feelings, they simply would not go away. There was no way I was falling for her; that was what I constantly had tried to convince myself of, but it just never seemed to work for me.

Something caught my attention; a sound from outside. When I looked out the window, I saw that it had started to rain heavily, the drops of water pounding against the streets and the windowsill. Elle tensed up when she saw the rain, which did not really make sense, since she had stood out in the rain before without a problem. Now, though, she stood there as if the rain was the most unnerving thing she had ever seen or experienced.

I crawled under the covers of one bed, deciding that I was too tired to shower again that day, and closed my eyes. Minutes later, thunder boomed and something heavy hit the vacant side of my bed, causing my body to bounce into the air. When I opened my eyes, I saw that Elle had dived right onto my bed. She covered her head with a pillow and shook slightly. Another crackle of thunder sounded and she jumped. A laugh escaped my throat and had I not covered my mouth, I probably would have burst out in laughter.

Elle took the pillow off of her head and glared at me. I held my hands up in surrender, but a smile still stayed planted on my face. "Are you honestly afraid of a little thunder? You shoot lightning out of your hands, Elle. What's a little thunder to you? It is only a sound…" I pointed out.

"Shut up, pom-pom. Just…just shut up," she said. She buried herself under the blanket and spread out, stretching her legs over mine and resting her arm just above my head.

"You realize that this is a king sized bed and you are taking up the entire thing, right?"

"Leave me alone; I am used to spreading out like this," she replied. I rolled my eyes.

"Good night, Elle," I mumbled.

When the thunder sounded again, Elle jumped and wrapped an arm around my waist, her eyes screwed shut and soft whimpers escaping her lips. I looked down at her lips, which had been slightly opened, and I licked my own without realizing it. Her head was nuzzled into my shoulder and one of her legs was thrown over mine.

"Can you get off of me?" I asked gently. The way she had positioned herself made me uncomfortable, and although I had asked her to move, a part of me wanted her to stay exactly as she was.

"Can you make the thunder stop? I didn't think so, Cheerleader," she retorted. I rolled my eyes before trying to go to bed.

**Author's Note: Yaaay, EClaire~**


	5. Chapter 5

~~Still Claire's Point of View~~

Sunlight streamed through the thin curtains in the hotel room, and I slowly opened my eyes. Looking around the room, I realized that everything was as it had been the night before, except for the position that I was in. Elle had wrapped herself around me during the night, and for whatever reason she was not wearing pants. Her bare legs were pressed against my own, and I silently cursed myself for wearing shorts instead of jeans.

Careful not to wake Elle up, I ungracefully slipped from her arms. I was not sure if she had stirred once the warmth of my body left her or when I fell to the ground with a loud _thud._ Either way, she had woken up, and I was just thankful that we were still not in our previous position. I did not know whether or not she would have flipped out. A lazy smile crept onto her face when she saw me, though it faded into an expression of confusion when she saw me on the ground.

"Do I want to know?" she asked. I shook my head in embarrassment, not daring to say anything about how I woke up. Much to my surprise, however, I wanted to be back in that position, resting in Elle's arms, my body pressed against hers.

_Shit. Shut up, Claire. Shut up. Stop thinking like that, _I thought to myself. Shaking my head once more, I headed towards the bathroom, not noticing the many emotions flickering on and off on Elle's face. I ran the cold water for a minute before stepping into the tiled shower, closing my eyes and trying to think of anything except for Elle.

After getting dressed, I walked back into the room, though Elle was not in sight. Small whimpering sounds came from the corner of the room, and it was then that I noticed Elle sitting under the desk with her knees hugged tightly to her chest.

"What the hell are you doing, Elle?" I questioned. She looked up, her face tear-streaked and her eyes red and puffy. I was taken aback by her appearance; I never would have thought that she would be one to start crying, especially not in front of some else. "What…what's wrong?"

I made my way over to her, but she stood up and brushed past me, flopping onto the bed and burying her face in the pillows. Sighing, I followed her and sat at the edge of the bed and awkwardly rubbed her back. She sat back up after a few minutes and just stared at me; neither of us moved, and neither of us spoke. It was the silence that killed me the most, not the look of pain etched onto her face.

Gently, I moved a strand of hair out of her face, and my fingers lingered at her cheek longer than they should have. Her eyes widened when I leaned in, but I pretended not to notice for my own benefit. She froze when I kissed her slowly and softly, and I instantly pulled away once I realized my mistake. I jumped off of the bed and backed into the wall.

"Elle—I—Sorry," I said. I looked away, a deep blush overcoming me.

"Wha…" It was all she had replied with, and I did not even expect anything in the first place. Humiliated, I walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind me, sliding down the floor and burying my face in my hands.

It was not that I had kissed her.

It was that I ruined everything between us.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Yeah…the last few chapters were a bit…random and not very plot-related. Anyway! The story is now back to Elle's point of view.

To say the least, the kiss did not bother me. I hardly paid any attention to it after Claire had locked herself in the bathroom. I felt bad; I wanted to go tell Claire that it was fine, that she should not have been embarrassed, but I was still too wrapped up in what I had broken down about before. And so I continued crying, harder than I ever cried before. I was lying in a fetal position on the bed, trying to control my sobs without any luck.

After about ten minutes had passed by, I thought back to the events that led up to Claire currently hiding out in the bathroom. The gentleness of her touch when she had brushed my hair out of my face…for some reason, I wanted it back. Her lips had been soft, and the feeling of them pressed against mine ever so slightly still lingered on my lips. I shook my head when I realized that my mind had wandered back to the kiss, and my own fantasies popped up along the way.

"Claire?" I choked out. My voice was hoarse and my cheeks were still wet with tears. She did not answer. "Claire?" I called again. Still, there was no answer. "I'm going to get some food at the breakfast thing they have in the lobby, okay?"

Without getting her approval, I wiped my face with some tissues and headed out the door. I had nothing to comb my hair with other than my fingers, and even then it was still messy and frizzy. Rolling my eyes, I waited for the elevator doors to open, and when they did, I hurried out. Some people stared at me while others did their best to avoid me, their eyes looking everywhere except at me. I sucked in a breath and tried to calm myself; I felt the electricity trying to come out to the surface of my skin at the uncomfortable stares I was receiving.

I grabbed two Styrofoam cups and poured coffee into them. Sighing, I leisurely made my way over to the elevator again and stood inside the cart alone. Staring into one of the cups of coffee, I was unable to keep the voices from swirling around in my head.

_"You turned Sylar into the monster that he is, Elle. This is your fault just as much as it is mine."_

_ "I love you, Elle. I'll be back in two hours. I promise. Then we can go out for ice cream! Two hours, love." _

_ "Elle, your mother is dead."_

"Mother?" I called out in a gasp. My mind registered that I was in the elevator, with no one else around. I hit my head against the wall behind me and closed my eyes, a single tear slipping down my cheek. "Mother…" I whispered.

"Hey, pom-pom, I got you a coffee. It will be on the table once you stop being such a wimp," I said, trying my hardest to return back to my normal, bitchy self. I had wished to say it with more venom, or something harsher, but I could barely even manage just that.

When she finally walked out of the bathroom, she kept her head hung low and was completely silent. Her hands gripped the cup and she drank quickly before tossing the cup carelessly into the waste basket in the corner of the room. I rolled my eyes and made my way into the bathroom, swallowing the sobs that threatened to come out of my. Tear pooled in the corners of my eyes as I thought more about my mother, and everything that I done wrong.

It was all my fault.

_Everything _was my fault.

Author's Note: So…a bit slow, yeah? Sorry. If you have any suggestions, you can either PM me or leave them in a review~


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